


Changes

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Dean Winchester AU [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, F/M, Professor Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are changing for Professor Winchester and everyone around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

“So, how are things?” Sam asked, taking a long drink of the beer that had just been set in front of him, grimacing as he pulled the bottle away from his mouth. The waitress behind the bar gave him the once over before smiling and wandering off to help another customer.

“Good,” I answered. “Things are good.”

“Really?” Sam said. “You answered that a little too quickly.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, trying to blow off Sam’s questions. But he just stared at me, not saying a word. He knew me too well.

“Things _are_ good,” I repeated.

“But?” Sam prodded.

“There is no ‘but,’ Sam,” I sighed. “Things with Y/N are better than ever, my classes are going great, there’s even this guy, Dick Roman, he’s an alumni, who seems very interested in my work with divine languages and lore, maybe interested enough to give me a grant. Everything is perfect.”

“Too perfect?” Sam asked.

I shook my head, staring at the bar top. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “Yeah, too perfect,” I shrugged. “I feel this sense of impending doom, you know? Like any minute everything is going to blow up in my face.”

“Yeah, trust me, I know how that feels,” Sam replied, shaking his head, his face suddenly serious.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Honestly?” Sam mumbled. “No. Cara and I...we’re...uh...having problems.”

“You’re kidding?” I couldn’t believe it. Cara and Sam had always seemed like the perfect couple, like they’d always be together. “What’s going on?”

“A difference of opinion,” Sam shrugged. He put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket pocket and then something dropped to the bar with a dull ping. It was a ring.

“What the hell?” I muttered. “Is that -?”

“Her engagement ring?” Sam finished. “Yeah. See, she was of the opinion we should rethink our decision to get married. I had a different opinion.” He picked the ring up and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Jesus, Sam, I’m sorry,” I said. “When the hell did this happen?”

He brushed a hand through the hair hanging in his face, shrugging. I knew Sam well enough to know that he was doing his best to keep it together, forcing his emotions down deep inside of him. He gave me a pained smile, then took another drink of his beer.

“Three, four weeks ago. It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll live.” He cleared his throat, tapped his fingers on the bar and then with a strong resolve I’d always known he possessed, turned back to me and changed the subject. “So, fill me in on this Dick Roman guy.”

I also knew Sam well enough to know when he wasn’t in the mood to talk about something. But I felt like a shit best friend, not knowing that Sam had broken up with his fiancee, instead living in my own perfect, little world. I was tempted to try to draw him out, try to get him to talk about what he was going through. Except that wasn’t us, that wasn’t what we did. So instead I spent the next hour with him, drinking and talking about anything that wasn’t Cara. I told him about the dinner I’d attended with Chuck Shurley and Dick Roman, and the messages Roman had left me about his interest in my research. We briefly touched on the subject of Y/N, though I kept that conversation brief, not wanting to rub my relationship in my best friend’s face after he’d just broke up with his fiancee. For his part, Sam filled me in on what Jo was up to, talked about the youth basketball league he was coaching and the dog he was thinking about getting. He also reiterated his desire to have me help out as a guest lecturer during his mythology unit. When I finally had to leave, he opted to stay, mumbling about having no reason to go home.

“Sam, just let me give you a lift home,” I tried to argue with him. He’d had at least four, maybe five beers, while I had barely finished one.

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good,” he muttered. “You go. I’ll call a cab later.” He gestured to the waitress, pointing at his empty bottle.

I was going to argue with him, but my phone chose that moment to ring. I yanked it from my pocket, forcing myself to take a deep breath before answering it.

“This is Dean,” I said. I clapped Sam on the shoulder as I headed for the door, glancing back at him one last time before I stepped outside. He was talking with the pretty waitress who had been helping us, raising a finger to acknowledge my wave goodbye.

“Dean, Dick Roman,” the man on the other end of the phone replied. “I was wondering if you had a few minutes to drop by my office. I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

I agreed, making arrangements to stop by after my last class the next day. He wouldn’t clue me in as to what he wanted to talk to me about, instead he insisted that I wait until our meeting, promising me I wouldn’t regret it.

* * *

The knock on my office door was so quiet and hesitant that I almost didn’t hear it. I yelled ‘come in’ over my shoulder as I shoved the rest of the papers I needed to grade into my backpack.

“Professor Winchester?” a voice murmured from behind me. Just the sound of it sent heat shooting through my veins and blood straight to my cock. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to get turned on, though I knew that was nearly impossible. There was just something about Y/N that turned me into a love-starved, horny, teenager.

“Hello, Y/N,” I replied as I turned around. “What can I do for you?” I was mindful of the fact that Garth was in the other room organizing some of my most recent research, so I kept my distance.

She glanced over her shoulder back into my classroom; as she did, I caught a glimpse of a dark, purple bruise on her neck, just under her ear, evidence of our tryst in the car on Halloween night, just two nights ago. This was the first time I’d seen her since she’d left my house on Sunday morning. Memories of that night filled my head, not helping my resolve to keep from getting completely turned on.

She turned back with a sigh. She stayed where she was, just on threshold of my door, the desire clear on her face, but the knowledge that Garth was just steps away holding her back. She rolled her eyes, threw another glance over her shoulder, and leaned against the doorjamb.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation?” she asked. “I need it for an intern position I’m applying for.”

“Intern position?” I repeated. “Really, with who?” I was legitimately curious. She hadn’t mentioned she was applying for intern positions.

“Crowley Publishing,” she said. “They have a paid intern position available, with the potential to move up in the company. I just need a letter of recommendation from my professors.”

“I’d be happy to write one,” I replied. “I’m on my way to a meeting, so it won’t be today. When do you need it?”

“By the end of the week, if possible,” she answered.

I nodded my agreement. She continued to talk, obviously not wanting to leave, instead choosing mundane, random things to discuss. I was staring at her mouth as she talked, remembering how it looked when she was turned on, screaming my name, how it tasted as I kissed her, barely registering the words she was speaking.

“Excuse me, Professor Winchester?” Garth mumbled from just over Y/N’s shoulder, startling her enough to make her jump.

“Jesus,” she hissed.

“Yes, Garth?” I asked, trying to hold back my laughter.

“If it’s alright with you I’m going to take off,” he answered. “I...um...I have a...uh…”

“Date with Bess, right?” Y/N piped up, clearly more in tune with Garth’s love life than I was.

Garth nodded, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “Y..y...yeah,” he stammered.

“It’s fine, Garth, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I smiled.

He was gone within minutes, his papers hastily put into his backpack, sprinting up the stairs two at a time. The second the door closed behind him, Y/N pushed herself into my office, shoving the door closed behind her. She was in my arms, her hands in my hair, her body flush against mine, her lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth, before I could blink. We were both moaning, grasping and pulling at each other; it had been too long.

“I...have...to...go,” I panted, while simultaneously sliding my hands down to grab her ass, pulling her against me.

“You really have a meeting?” she whispered against my mouth.

I reluctantly took a step back, adjusting myself, probably not too subtly considering the grin on Y/N’s face. “Yeah, on the other side of town,” I said. “At Roman Enterprises.”

“Really?” she said, running her fingers through my hair, patting it into place. “That alumni you had dinner with the other night?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Hopefully I’ll be done early, though.” I pulled her into my arms, hugging her close. “I’ll call you later.”

She rose up on her toes and kissed me. “Promise?” she murmured.

I didn’t answer right away, just pressed a kiss to her forehead and grabbed my backpack. “I’m gonna be late,” I said. I left her, standing in my classroom, near my desk. I was almost to the door when I yelled “I promise” over my shoulder. I could hear the sound of her laughter as the door swung shut behind me.

* * *

I was flipping through the file for the fourth or fifth time since I’d gotten home when I heard a faint knock and the turn of a key in the back door. Y/N stepped into the light thrown by the lamp on the table by the couch just a few seconds later.

“Hi,” she murmured, climbing onto the couch next to me, her arm sliding around my waist, her head on my shoulder. “How was your meeting?”

I didn’t say anything just handed her the file. She gave me a tentative smile, opened it and started reading. When she finished, she looked as confused as I felt.

“What exactly is this?” she asked.

“It’s a job offer,” I answered with a sigh. “An unbelievable, once-in-a-lifetime job offer.”

“But-” She stopped and took a deep breath.

I didn’t miss the faint hitch as she did or the way her fingers were gripping the file, or the way she was biting her lip, or how her eyes kept flicking back and forth between me and the file in her hand.

“But it says it’s for Roman Enterprises in _Europe_ ,” she said. “Is it a...mistake?”

“No,” I shook my head. “It isn’t.”

“He wants you to move to -.” She checked the file before continuing. “Venice? In Italy?”

I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck as I leaned forward and rested my arms on my legs, my hands clasped between my knees. “It would actually be, well, everywhere in Europe. He wants to fund my research on divine languages, but not through the school. I’d be a consultant, working for the anthropological division of the company. He claims to have a large collection of artifacts that require translations, tablets and old scrolls. He seems to think that I can help him with that, that my work is the key to breaking these age old scrolls and deciphering them. But he doesn’t want what he calls my ‘hobby’ to get the way.”

“Your hobby?” Y/N murmured.

“Teaching,” I laughed sardonically. “Dick says I’m too good to teach. That I’m destined for bigger, better things. And he wants to help me get there.”

“How does he even know who you are?” she asked.

“His daughter, Amelia, is in one of my classes,” I told her. “She told her father about my research and -.”

“And now he wants to hire you as some consultant and pay you a six-figure salary?” Y/N sputtered. “Based solely on the word of his daughter? Sounds like bullshit to me.” I could hear a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“It’s not based solely on the word of his daughter,” I shot back, pushing myself to my feet, pacing the living room as I attempted to explain myself. “He has looked over my research, examined it, studied it, dug into my background as an educator and as one of the leading lore and divine language experts in my field. That is why he wants me to work for him, not because his mousy, shy daughter in my freshman history class asked him to. You don’t understand Y/N. This is the chance of a lifetime. Literally the chance of a lifetime. I never thought my work would gain any kind of recognition, certainly not internationally. To have someone want to pay me to do it, to fund it, that is beyond the scope of my wildest dreams.”

“But you would have to leave,” she mumbled. “Move to another country. What would that mean for us? We’ve barely started to figure this out and it’s so new, so different. Do you want to just throw all of -”

“I don’t know what I want to do!” I shouted. I forced myself to calm down, to not take my frustrations out on the woman I loved. Everything was twisted into a million knots and I couldn’t seem to focus, couldn’t get my head on straight to figure things out.

Y/N visibly recoiled, tears springing to her eyes. She slowly closed the file and dropped it to the low coffee table. She stared at the floor, dejected.

“He wants me to go to Venice next week,” I said. “Meet with the other members of the consult team. Get a feel for what it would be like working for him.”

“Are you going?” she muttered, still staring at the floor.

“I can’t _not_ go, Y/N,” I answered. “This is...this is what I’ve dreamed of since I left college. A chance to study the things I love and get paid for it.” I shook my head and once more rubbed my hand over the back of my neck. “I can’t make an informed decision if I don’t go.” I crossed the room and kneeled in the small space between the coffee table and the couch. I took her cold hands in mine. “We’ll figure it out, together, I promise.” I tangled my fingers in her hair and pulled her lips to mine, brushing a kiss over them.

“Together,” she nodded. The smile she gave me didn’t reach her eyes though.

 


End file.
